


falling

by tusslee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: But only a little, Dreams, First Kiss, Fluff, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Swearing, an unecessary use of a cliche metaphore, introspection maybe, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 11:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10512501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tusslee/pseuds/tusslee
Summary: Lance was also not entirely the idiot everyone thought him to be. Oblivious in some aspects, yes. Naïve to an extent, also yes. But Lance knew a little bit of the psychology behind dreams and how they were basically your subconscious projecting your fears, or whatever. Okay so he didn’t know theexactdetails, but he knew enough to piece together why his fear of falling was quickly becoming the main focus of his dreams night after night.And of course like everything else that went wrong in Lance’s life, it was Keith’s fault.





	

There was a line Lance walked, or maybe it was more like an edge, but he couldn’t be sure because as far as he could see there was nothing beneath his feet and he wasn’t really eager to find out if there was something solid on either side of the straight line he was currently maintaining. 

Someone told him once upon a time that it wasn’t necessarily the height, but the fall. The distance between Lance’s body and the ground that lie in wait. 

So Lance wasn’t scared of the height, just the falling part. The dizzying nothingness that stretched for miles both beneath and above him. All he had was the solidity under his feet, like somehow if he just kept putting one foot in front of the other he wouldn’t fall to his immediate death. 

Lance was dreaming, which he knew. It was a common dream that varied from time to time, but mostly it was just dark and smelled like the ocean. God, Lance really missed the ocean. 

If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine the sound of waves rolling, slapping the sandy beach he loved so much, but if he closed his eyes that increased his chance of falling. 

There was something a little bit not right with this particular dream. 

Most of the time when Lance realized he was in fact dreaming, he could easily manipulate and shape it until he woke up, or just pull himself from sleep entirely. It didn’t feel like that this time, though, and he wasn’t sure why. 

The expanse that spread before him looked a lot like space when he peered out the large viewing windows of the castle. It was mostly dark, dots of lights that were likely stars off in the distance. Everything was tinged in a dim, blue hue like it was still early morning on Earth. The nothingness under his feet wasn’t uncommon and didn’t exactly frighten him, but it did throw his balance off, vertigo hitting him nearly hard enough to send him sideways. 

In his head, Lance knew falling was unlikely and even if he _did_ fall, the sensation would probably send him sitting upright in bed, but the fear still lingered and made him freeze as he regained his balance. 

“What a joke.” Lance muttered to himself. He wasn’t exactly literarily inclined or anything because honestly English had been one of his worst subjects in school, but he at least knew what a metaphor was and if this wasn’t the biggest, cheesiest one he’d ever seen, may Zarkon strike him dead in his sleep.

Lance was by definition, a straight _cheese_. A romantic at heart and maybe a little bit desperate for some kind of validation. If his false confidence hid his crushing insecurities, well nobody needed to know. 

Lance was also not entirely the idiot everyone thought him to be. Oblivious in some aspects, yes. Naïve to an extent, also yes. But Lance knew a little bit of the psychology behind dreams and how they were basically your subconscious projecting your fears, or whatever. Okay so he didn’t know the _exact_ details, but he knew enough to piece together why his fear of falling was quickly becoming the main focus of his dreams night after night. 

And of course like everything else that went wrong in Lance’s life, it was Keith’s fault. 

A part of his brain (the irrational part, clearly) laughed at him and said: _no_ , this is all _your_ fault, buddy. 

Still, Keith could at least take some of the blame because it wasn’t entirely Lance’s fault he was falling for him. His hair was stupid. His fingerless gloves were also stupid even if a little hot (mostly stupid). His haughtier-than-thou attitude was irritating beyond belief (also sort of hot) and Lance most certainly _did not_ just admit that he was falling for Keith. 

Lance was allowed to appreciate a good looking person. It wasn’t a crime that he found Keith attractive. _Oh god_. But that’s why he was here, wasn’t it? Because of all the irrational and even rational fears Lance beat down into the depths of his mind with a stick, this one just kept coming back. It was probably because he couldn’t talk himself out of this one. Because falling in love wasn’t something he could control. That shit just happened.

Which was what this stupid dream meant, right? Fuck, maybe Lance was just reading too much into it, but then the nothing under his feet shimmered and became the stark white-grey metallic floor of the upper deck of the castle and he was pressed up against the floor to ceiling window staring out at space. Lance drummed his fingers against the cool glass as he sighed. This thing with Keith was too complicated. They weren’t even really friends, but apparently neither Lance’s heart, nor brain cared about that fact because they both short-circuited when he caught sight of the very man’s reflection in the window. 

“What are you afraid of?” Keith’s uncharacteristically soft voice broke the tense silence that threatened to swallow Lance whole. Lance’s exhale was shaky, he hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath. His first instinct was to snap that _he feared nothing, not even fear itself!_ Because fuck Keith, right? But his mouth felt too dry and the question felt too thick. 

_A lot of things_ , Lance thought, _too many things_. 

But what kind of hero was afraid of the dark? Afraid of spiders, or any other insect with way too many legs? (four is the max amount, man) Afraid of heights, or falling from really tall places, or just plain _falling_. Afraid of fucking up, of disappointing people who mattered, of never being enough, but at the same time being too much. 

Lance wanted and wanted and wanted. He gave everything he had to offer, which sometimes _was_ too much. He cared, fuck, he cared _so much_. What was he afraid of?

“Losing.” Lance answered. Losing his family. Losing his friends. Losing this war. Losing himself in the process. Losing everything that mattered because there was so much at stake to lose. 

“If you never try then you’ll never know.” Dream-Keith told Lance and Lance spun around in disbelief. 

“Don’t quote Coldplay at me, man!” 

Dream-Keith was closer than Lance expected him to be and he was smiling. Alright, well it was a half-assed smirk more than it was a smile, but for someone who had chronic resting bitch face, Lance dubbed it a smile and felt his knees go weak. His hands splayed against the glass behind him when Dream-Keith stepped into his space. “It’s not even the falling,” he said, “it’s the landing.”

Lance didn’t ask what Dream-Keith meant because he knew and he also knew he was right. The splat at the end. That was the scary part. There was nothing but hard earth waiting down below, heck maybe concrete. Water? Nobody was there waiting to catch him. That was the point. 

“You’re already falling, Lance.” Dream-Keith said then prodded Lance’s chest with two fingers and he _was_ falling. The glass behind him completely vanished and Lance tumbled back, out, down, down, down.

_Catch me_ , was his last thought before he woke panting, sweat making his sheet cling to his legs and bare torso. 

“Lance?” There was a quiet knock then his doors slid open with the soft _whoosh_ and there was Keith, already dressed and apparently clean if the wet hair was indication enough. “Did you forget we were sparring today?” Keith asked, one dark eyebrow raised as if more in accusation than wonder. 

Lance’s head was still stuck in his dream world, but he managed to clear his throat and throw his sheet off himself as he slid from bed, “Overslept.” He mumbled as he shoved his too-long hair from his damp forehead. 

Keith hovered and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently thought better of it because he shook his head and turned around, “Meet you there then.”

Something in Lance faltered. He caught the doors before they could close and poked his head into the hallway, “Keith!” He called, making the man stop and look over his shoulder. When Lance did nothing but stand dumbly in the doorway to his room, Keith sighed and turned around to walk back and stand in front of him.

“What’s the problem?” He demanded as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m afraid.” Lance blurted. 

With no context to go off of, Keith’s brows furrowed, “We spar all the time. What the hell are you afraid of all of a sudden?”

“No, no, not sparring. Of losing.” Lance struggled to explain. Geez, Dream-Keith caught on a lot quicker, didn’t he?

“Lance, if you lose you’ll just jump right back up and challenge me tomorrow. That’s kind of been an ongoing thing.” 

Keith was missing the point Lance was desperately trying to make while only really half awake and flustered. “ _No_ ,” Lance persisted, “forget sparring. I’m afraid of losing _you_.” And there it was. A confession in the form of word vomit, all over the front of Keith’s form-fitting black t-shirt. _Shit_. “N-not _just_ you, or anything. Like losing you would be detrimental don’t get me wrong. Voltron can’t really be Voltron without all five of us, you know. But like, losing in general. People. Important people. _Keith_ ,” Lance begged pathetically, hands splayed helplessly in front of him, “I’m falling and I need you to fucking catch me.”

“Like right now, are you going to pass out on me? Lance, I swear to god,” Lance was sure Keith had more to say, but words just weren’t doing the trick so he grabbed a fistful of Keith’s shirt and yanked him forward then crushed their lips together. It was a bit of a mess because Keith just kind of stood there while Lance pressed on to force a response, but he definitely wasn’t getting one. He pulled back, breath stuck in his chest. 

“You,” Keith breathed, “make absolutely _no sense_.” Before Lance could be offended, Keith kissed him, this time wholly participating in the exchange and Lance swore he saw stars. 

So, Lance was afraid of a lot of things, but he didn’t dream about falling after that so maybe that was just one down and all the rest to go. If Keith held his hand he figured he could endure pretty much everything else.


End file.
